Peace first, Chanukah second

Rabbi Dr. Abraham Twerski, in his Smiling Each Day, tells of a Jewish community composed of many different religious sects, each one adhering to its own rabbi's authority. At one point a dispute erupted, mushrooming to such an extent that an outside sage was imported to resolve the strife.

This objective authority interviewed the various sides and investigated the issue at length before proposing a solution. When he finally presented an idea, though, one of the interested rabbis rejected it. He tried an alternative proposal, but another participant shot it down. A third approach was similarly demolished. Finally, he threw up his hands in exasperation and declared, "Now I understand why Avraham asked G-d regarding Sodom (Genesis 18:24), 'If there are fifty tzaddikim [righteous people] in the city, won't you desist from destroying it?' Avraham's logic was simple: If there are fifty tzaddikim in the city, they will make sure to bring it to ruin themselves; there is no need for You to intervene!"

The lesson of the story, to me, is that people pursuing righteous goals sometimes forget that they have homes, families, and a world to maintain, and that shalom in that home, family and world must be given greater priority than our other pursuits.

The Talmud (Shabbat 23b) seeks to educate this forgetful Jew, declaring, "It is obvious that a Jew who must choose to spend on either the lights of Shabbat or the lights of Chanukah should spend on the lights of Shabbat, for the sake of the peace they will provide for the home." The core purpose of our Shabbat candles is to illuminate our homes in a dignified way, so that people will be able to enjoy Shabbat in peace, without tripping over obstacles and squabbling with each other. This goal is deemed so important that it even overrides the imperative to publicize Divine miracles through the lights of Chanukah.

This law is remarkable in light of the fact that the minimum length of time required for the lights of Chanukah to burn is just thirty minutes. We are talking about reducing the fuel for one's Shabbat lamp by only thirty minutes – and even that brief length of time is considered so important that it trumps the Chanukah lights. Judaism decrees that it would be better to omit all thanks for the Divine miracle than to have a home in pain for thirty minutes.

The home exists on multiple levels; there is the literal house, the broader family, and the still-broader community. On each level, we need to preserve our shalom bayit, the peace of our home, lest people be pained. On each level we must remember the Divine mandate: Without the lights of Shabbat, one might as well not have the lights of Chanukah. First we build community and create shalom, and then we are able to celebrate Chanukah and thank G-d for the miracles. May we merit to have both parts, the shalom and the gratitude to G-d, in our homes.

Thanksgiving and Chanukah: Twins or Opposites?

As an unrehabilitated American, I grew up viewing Thanksgiving - the one celebrated on the last Thursday in November, not the Canadian one - as a holiday unlike traditional Christian and pagan celebrations. In our shul community, no one would have suggested that a Jew celebrate Halloween, much less Easter or December 25^th. Thanksgiving, though, was considered a more pareve celebration in the U.S., and many Jews used the opportunity to have family gatherings, eat turkey and watch football. [For a discussion of the halachic propriety of celebrating Thanksgiving, see the article here; naturally, there are multiple views.]

This is why many American Jews are now making a big deal out of the extremely unusual overlap of Thanksgiving and Chanukah this year; Aish haTorah, for example, offers a full feature on Thanksgivukkah, accompanied by this comedy routine by Stephen Colbert. To many American Jews, Thanksgiving is benign, and therefore the overlap is more notable than, say, that of Pesach and Easter.

Taking this overlap a step further, some have contended that the two holidays are basically similar; both express gratitude to G-d for rescuing us from harm. However, in my view, these celebrations are not at all comparable. American Thanksgiving is an "apple pie" sort of day, on which the average citizen might contemplate his bounty while reclining in an easy chair, one hand on his belly and the other holding a remote control. The theme of gratitude for a good harvest lends itself to a זמן שמחתנו of sorts, a joy at surviving drought and blight with good for the coming winter.

Chanukah, though, is a more grim and complicated holiday for me. The themes of Chanukah are war against brutal foes, assimilation into another culture, Jew battling against Jew for the future of Judaism, the hard process of rebuilding a nation that has been enslaved to another, and the difficult transition of the Chashmonaim from priests to warriors to kings. Thanksgiving smiles with a full stomach (leaving the concern for what colonists did to Native Americans for another day, of course); Chanukah thanks G-d while wiping away blood and bandaging wounds. Thanksgiving is user-friendly; Chanukah is brutal.

Certainly, we celebrate Chanukah with joy and gratitude to G-d, but let's not sand down the rough edges in our desire to have a happy day. Better to think through the challenges posed by the stories of the Maccabim and the Hellenizing Mityavnim, the history of our relationship with the Greeks, and the rise and fall of the Chashmonai [Hasmonean] kings, and emerge from this Chanukah with a better understanding of what those stories and that history mean for our own lives.

A common Chanukah question

A common chanukah question:

Question: If my spouse lights a chanukiah in our home on time, and I will not come home until later that night, do I light when I arrive at home?

One's spouse may light on his behalf at home, exempting him from his obligation to light. However, there may be a separate obligation to see a chanukiah, personally. Therefore, assuming someone will be awake to see his chanukiah when he lights, the person who comes home late should state that he is not relying upon the lighting taking place in his home, and he should light upon arriving home.

[I used male pronouns to simplify the language, but I believe this applies equally to men and women.]

(Shulchan Aruch Orach Chaim 676:3, 677:3; Mishneh Berurah 677:14; Aruch haShulchan Orach Chaim 676:7; Igrot Moshe Orach Chaim 5:43:1; Mishneh Halachot 15:207:1)

Hiddur vs. Kallos

I published the following column in the Canadian Jewish News last week, but since they don't run it on-line, I'm including it here. Some of the ideas I used in a Chanukah article in YU's To Go from 5771 are involved here, but this is more sophisticated. Neal Stephenson fans (Anathem, specifically) may particularly like it:

My elementary school teachers explained Hellenic culture by telling our class that Greeks worshipped the beautiful body. Underscoring this point by noting that ancient Olympic competitors performed without clothing, these teachers succeeded in conveying an indelible image, but they oversimplified the role of Beauty in the original Chanukah and its celebrations today.

Greek culture honoured the body's physical beauty, but their emphasis was upon a broader conception of Beauty, or Kallos. Plato envisioned an abstract universe in which the characteristics we express as adjectives exist as nouns – a perfect Triangle, a perfect Blue, and a perfect Beauty, as independent entities.

Within that abstract Platonic universe, Kallos occupies a place of honour, and so every beautiful thing in our world is automatically admired as a reflection of that higher Kallos, even in the absence of any other redeeming characteristic. To cite from Plato's Phaedrus (Jowett translation), the most elevated person who observes beauty in our world "is transported with the recollection of the true beauty… he is like a bird fluttering and looking upward and careless of the world below; and he is therefore thought to be mad." And as Plato wrote in his Symposium (Nehamas translation), "Only in the contemplation of beauty is human life worth living."

This ideal was rejected by the Maccabees, for Jewish tradition spurns the idea that Beauty has inherent value. Beauty is neither good nor evil; it is only a characteristic of a good or evil entity. As Proverbs 31:30 states, "Charm is false and beauty is empty"; we don't admire Beauty for its own value.

However, Jewish tradition does teach that the act of Beautification, Hiddur in Hebrew, demonstrates devotion; as the Sages translated the Jews' song of praise at the Red Sea (Exodus 15:2), "This is my G-d, and I will beautify Him." Therefore, the same Maccabees who rejected Kallos pursued Hiddur in establishing the restored Temple's Menorah. The Talmud (Menachot 28b) teaches, "The branches of their Menorah were iron rods, and the Hasmoneans coated them with tin. When they became wealthier, they made the branches of silver. When they became still wealthier, they made the branches of gold."

We follow in the footsteps of the Maccabees and employ Hiddur on Chanukah, too. The Talmud records a baseline practice of lighting one flame per household on each night of Chanukah, but Jews all over the world follow the Talmud's highest "mehadrin" practice of lighting multiple flames, based on the number of Chanukah nights that have passed. As the 13th century commentary Tosafot explains, this practice is called mehadrin from the word Hiddur, signifying that it beautifies the mitzvah; we practice Hiddur in order to glorify our Judaism.

Beyond the religious message, Hiddur of a mitzvah also offers great practical value. I wish for my children to value the religious decisions I have made, but if my child sees rote observance, begrudging fulfillment of obligations and bottom-line satisfaction of expectations, she may find that model less than compelling. On the other hand, if our children will see that a mitzvah is a thing worthy of Hiddur, then perhaps they will desire to own it themselves. With their beautified Menorah, the Maccabees encouraged us to demonstrate, for ourselves and for our children, that mitzvot are worthy of Hiddur.

Buying the nicest menorah for myself

After the Jews cross through Yam Suf they sing, זה קלי ואנוהו, which the gemara (Shabbos 133b) renders as 'I will glorify Him'. We are to use a beautiful succah, lulav, shofar and so on; this is the concept called 'hiddur mitzvah'.

But here is my question: Is hiddur mitzvah supposed to be a selfish value? Or are we meant to take it less literally, as an imperative to beautify mitzvos in general, including those performed by others? In other words: Have I fulfilled 'hiddur mitzvah' by purchasing a nice mitzvah item for someone else?

In my years as a shul rabbi in charge of distributing the shul's lulav and esrog sets, I never looked in the esrog boxes before selecting my own. I always paid for an esrog of a certain level, and took one of the boxes marked at that level without opening various boxes to compare the products within. [Other than the embarrassing year when a vendor specifically gave me a 'special' esrog – which raised serious questions of bribery in my mind.]

My logic was simple: If I take the nicest esrog, then I will have the most beautiful esrog and someone else will be forced to settle for less. I shouldn't have a beautiful mitzvah at the expense of someone else. Just last week I heard about a rosh yeshiva in Israel (I forget whom) who has the same practice – he takes a less-beautiful esrog, and leaves the nicest one for someone else. So I'm not the only one doing this.

In support of this approach, one could argue that 'beautiful' has multiple meanings: Holding an aesthetically appealing esrog is one type of beauty, but another, deeper beauty is found in offering aesthetically appealing esrogim to others. Perhaps if I enable someone else to perform a mitzvah beautifully, I can claim 'credit' for hiddur mitzvah.

But is that really a correct application of hiddur mitzvah? Perhaps we are meant to feel a degree of selfishness regarding our personal relationship with Gd.

Let's turn the question to Chanukah, since that's coming up: Is it better for me to buy a beautiful menorah for myself and let others use their less-nice models, or for me to give a less-fortunate person money so that he will be able to use a beautiful menorah, and I'll make do with an older, cheaper menorah? Or: In a family with multiple menorot, should I take a less-nice menorah, to permit another to use a better one? [Yes, I know it's actually a chanukiah. No, I'm not about to start calling it that.]

We might draw on the Mishneh Berurah's comments (694:3) regarding the Purim Seudah, when he says it would be better for a person to enjoy a basic meal and use the rest of his funds to increase his gifts to the needy for their Purim meals – but that's a Purim-related halachah, and not really about hiddur mitzvah.

I'm not sure.

The Beauty of Chanukah

This is my article for this Chanukah's YU To Go:

Judaism is of two minds regarding Beauty, at times according it a place of honor, and at times denigrating it as superficial and without meaning. To take but one example: The Torah presents contradictory views of whether beauty indicates righteousness. Scripture and sages emphasize that our matriarchs must have been women of surpassing beauty – but regarding would-be leaders like Eliav and Avshalom, we are warned not to be impressed by aesthetics. Judaism both promotes and denies the value of beauty.

The rites of Chanukah, on the other hand, seem to demonstrate that the debate is closed: Physical beauty is a goal to be sought. Our celebrations are thoroughly invested with an impulse for beauty, directed by an imperative which values the attractive.

Chanukah’s perennial emphasis on beauty

Witness the talmudic description of the menorah constructed by the impoverished Chashmonaim in the wake of their military victory:[1]

שפודים של ברזל היו וחיפום בבעץ העשירו עשאום של כסף חזרו והעשירו עשאום של זהב

The branches of their menorah were iron rods, and the Chashmonaim coated them with tin. When they became wealthier, they made the branches of silver. When they became still wealthier, they made the branches of gold.

Although the iron and tin menorah was halachically acceptable, the Chashmonaim sought to beautify the menorah of the Beit haMikdash with gold. And lest one argue that this was only because the Menorah’s biblical predecessor was made of gold, note that the same impulse for hiddur, for beauty, applies to our own Chanukiah. Citing the biblical[2] principle of “שלא יהיו מצוות בזויות עליו, that one must ensure that his mitzvot are not degraded,” they ruled[3] that we must make sure to use a clean, fresh Chanukiah.[4]

This same desire for impressive appearances informs the candle-lighting options presented in the gemara:[5]

מצות חנוכה נר איש וביתו והמהדרין נר לכל אחד ואחד והמהדרין מן המהדרין בית שמאי אומרים יום ראשון מדליק שמנה מכאן ואילך פוחת והולך ובית הלל אומרים יום ראשון מדליק אחת מכאן ואילך מוסיף והולך

The mitzvah of Chanukah is for each family to light one lamp. Those who beautify[6] light one lamp for each individual. According to Beit Shammai, those who beautify still more light eight lamps on the first day, and then reduce by one per day. According to Beit Hillel, they light one lamp on the first day, and then increase by one per day.

The weight assigned to aesthetics informs our choice of fuel for the Chanukiah, too. Malachi[7] rebuked the Jews of his day for bringing inferior animals as korbanot, and he dared them, “הקריבהו נא לפחתך,” “Bring it now to your [human] ruler! Would he be satisfied, would he show favor to you?” The sages applied this principle to various elements of korban activities: Using water which has been left exposed for Succot libations,[8] using inferior klei sharet [service implements] in the Beit haMikdash,[9] bringing an offering with excrement upon it[10] or in it,[11] and tearing open a korban’s limb before bringing it on the mizbeiach.[12] They also extended the principle to kiddush wine, which is compared to the wine poured on the mizbeiach.[13] And, invoking this principle, Rav Yosef Teumim[14] ruled that one may not use fouled oil for the Chanukiah.[15]

Using beauty to defeat the Greeks

Perhaps this emphasis upon beauty in our Chanukah celebration is not a definitive statement on Judaism’s approach to the physical, though; perhaps it is a Chanukah-specific product of our ancestors’ victory over the Greeks. Each Yom Tov which celebrates the defeat of a foe includes some denial of that enemy’s approach, a message designed to counter the ethos of our antagonists. So it is that our Pesach celebration includes the slaughter of the lamb, one of Egypt’s gods.[16] So it is that Purim incorporates elements of unity, countering Haman’s description of the Jews as מפזר ומפרד, scattered and divided.[17] Perhaps Chanukah employs beautification of Divine service in order to counter the Greek emphasis on the beauty to be found in the elements of this world.

In a fourth century BCE discussion of Love, Plato put the following words into the mouth of Socrates: “Only in the contemplation of beauty is human life worth living.[18]” True, he was referring to internal as well as external elegance, but his definition of beauty did not extend to the beauty of ritual mitzvot. This aesthetic emphasis persisted in Greek culture and values into the Hellenistic period, and Jews who were attracted to the world of Plato’s descendants may have been drawn to this ideal.

To this influence our Chanukah celebration replies: Find beauty in mitzvot! Kindle a splendid Chanukiah, pour pure fuel into its lamps, and honor the mitzvah with increasing levels of splendor. With this you will encourage your generation and the generations of your descendants to avoid the errors of the mityavnim, and to embrace a life which sees beauty in mitzvot. Like the korban for Pesach, like mishloach manot for Purim, the beauty of Chanukah’s celebration will perpetuate the lessons of the original victory.

To take this a step further: Our ancestors may have rejected Hellenism, but who can doubt that the values of Chanukah’s vanquished yet survive and thrive? Our present reality seeks and rewards beauty - and we are undoubtedly influenced. Our eyes, and therefore our hearts, are drawn to beautiful things. Seen against this backdrop, the drive to beautify our mitzvot is about more than continuing the victory over the Greeks; throughout the year, the elegance of our Torah can serve as a magnet to attract our focus and inspire our commitment. The greater our efforts to demonstrate a Jewish life which is glorious and worthy of honor, the greater will be the reward in its lasting influence upon us and upon our children.

May we be מהדרין מן המהדרין in all of our mitzvot, on Chanukah and throughout the year, reveling in the beauty of our Torah, countering the influences of the Hellenic world and creating a Judaism for all to admire.

---

[1] Menachot 28b

[2] See the many rishonim cited in Sdei Chemed ב:לח who argue that this is a biblical principle, extrapolated from the rule that one may not fulfill the mitzvah of כיסוי הדם (covering the blood of a schechted bird or beast) with one’s foot.

[3] Masechet Sofrim 20:3, Tur Orach Chaim 673

[4] On Shabbat 22a they also noted that we may not examine coins by the light of the Chanukiah, and that we may not light a non-Chanukiah flame from the Chanukiah itself, under this same principle.

[5] Shabbat 21a

[6] This is the translation of מהדרין according to Tosafot Shabbat 21a והמהדרין. Rashi, on the other hand, renders מהדרין as “those who pursue.”

[7] Malachi 1:8

[8] Succah 50a

[9] Sotah 14b

[10] Zevachim 85a

[11] Menachot 69a

[12] Chullin 90b

[13] Bava Batra 97b, and see Rashbam there

[14] Pri Megadim, Eishel Avraham Orach Chaim 154:19, based on Ran, Chullin 36b בדפי הרי"ף

[15] The aforementioned rabbinic principle of avoiding degradation of mitzvot appears to be distinct from the biblical mandate of avoiding the use of inferior items for mitzvot. The former prescribes behavior, where the latter is about mitzvah objects.

[16] See, for example, Shmot Rabbah 16:2

[17] Shut Chatam Sofer 1:196 citing Manot haLevi to Esther 9:19

[18] Nehamas translation of Plato’s Symposium, 211d

Avoiding the Menorah fights

[Post I'm mulling: What are the schools serving? at Conversations in Klal]

With Chanukah starting tonight, I'm thinking about a perennial problem: The Menorah Fights.

It's been a family tradition among my children for years, and I remember doing it when I was their age, too. At some point during the menorah lighting, one child or another will become upset that her menorah isn't up front, or that his menorah doesn't have a fair share of purple candles, or that he didn't get to light tonight, or that she lit first, or that she stepped on his foot when we started dancing during Maoz Tzur, and so on. All while I'm trying to have a religious as well as pedagogic experience...

So what can we do to head this off? My first rule in parenting - at least theoretically - is to plan ahead. Whether in managing kids in shul, or in dealing with chinuch issues, or anything else, I find I am awful at handling things on the spot. I need to work at it in advance. But how?

So I've been thinking about the Pesach Seder model. Thank Gd, we don't see the same problems at the Seder, even though it's late at night, the food doesn't come until late, and so on. Why does the Seder work?

A few thoughts, which may be practical for Menorah-lighting as well -

1. The Seder is unique; it comes twice, and that's it for the year. Perhaps we need to find ways to make sure each night's menorah lighting is unique, so that they won't become bored, or too familiar with it.

2. The Seder has dedicated time, when all of us are devoted only to the seder experience. Contrast that with Menorah lighting, which takes place while dinner is in the offing, there are shiurim to prepare/deliver, the phone is ringing and so on. Having dedicated time takes some of the pressure off of both adults and children.

3. At the Seder, our children have unique, dedicated space at the table, and unique, dedicated tasks (reading, targeting a specific afikoman, and so on). Probably a good idea to assign space, personal menorah and personal role (holding the berachos card, for example) when we light the menorah.

4. The Seder has a clear educational component, which is individualized in its focus. Perhaps it would make sense to design individualized education for each child during the lighting, itself.

All things to think about. All things I should have thought about last week, of course, if I were truly planning ahead. Ah, well. Happy Chanukah, חג אורים שמח!

Re-Post - My White House visit for Chanukah

The post below ran at Chanukah-time three years ago. I look back with a mixture of nostalgia and amusement; enjoy.


I wrote an opinion article regarding my White House/Chanukah trip, and it ran in the Allentown Morning Call on Thursday, December 13. They edited it marginally, just enough to wreck some of the grammar. This is their version:

(Their title: White House Chanukah signals democratic health)

The phrase ''Only in America'' is trite, but apt for the occasion: On Monday evening Dec. 10, my wife Caren and I joined a few hundred other Jewish Americans for a Chanukah party in the White House. The hosts were President and Mrs. Bush, and all I could think was, ''Only in America.''

Cynics carp that such cultural celebrations, like the president's marking of Eid al-Fitr this past October, are essentially political tools, meant to appeal to minority voters.

But, I believe that the cynics are missing the point. The lesson of such occasions is that only in America, and in the societies America has inspired, can a minority gain this sort of political notice, this level of electoral significance.

If the motivation is to win the favor of a cultural minority, that's a good thing, a sign of our country's democratic health. The Chinese government doesn't need to worry about catering to a minority, and neither do Arab nations; only in America does the president have to pause to think about the feelings of each ethnic group. Only in America will the president's staff contact the Orthodox Union and offer it the chance to invite four rabbis to celebrate Chanukah at the White House.

And so, we marked Chanukah with a menorah from the family of Daniel Pearl, the Wall Street Journal reporter brutally murdered by terrorists for the crime of being Jewish. Daniel Pearl's parents, wife and family were honored guests for the evening.

And so, we enjoyed kosher food, prepared in the White House kitchen with equipment that had been specially treated to render it kosher. Cookies bore the phrase, ''Happy Chanukah,'' and we munched on traditional Chanukah jelly doughnuts beneath the portraits of past presidents and first ladies.

And so, we heard the Jewish Zamir Chorale, as well as a military band, perform such Chanukah classics as ''Rock of Ages'' and ''I Had a Little Dreidel.'' Those big brass sections really add something to the traditional tunes.

And so, a rabbi and rebbetzin (rabbi's wife) from the third-largest city in Pennsylvania were honored by the Orthodox Union with the opportunity to meet the President of the United States and First Lady and stand beside them for a photograph. (We actually took two photographs; the President explained that he had blinked on the first one.)

And, to return to those cynics for a moment: The Chanukah celebration at the White House was not entirely politically inspired; the White House also marks Chanukah privately, more quietly, with a commemoration for its Jewish employees.In a nation of businesses who stage ''holiday parties'' meant to serve as catch-all celebrations for employees of all ethnicities, this White House holds separate parties for White House staff members on their own holidays. This means that Jewish staff members have their own Chanukah party, not as part of the public celebration and not as part of some generic ''holiday'' celebration, but as a commemoration of their own. Would that our nation's businesses were similarly sensitive!

America, after all of the constitutional legislation and all of the political debate, is culturally Christian. I walk the malls bemusedly staring at all of the red and green. I turn on the radio and hear holiday music, I drive down the street and see lone candles in the windows and chains of lights draped over shrubbery. The White House was filled with tinsel-decorated evergreen trees; even the invitation for the Chanukah party featured a picture of a festively decorated fir tree.

But none of this troubles me. The beauty of America, at least to me, is that the citizens of this great nation can celebrate their own festivities and simultaneously recognize the celebrations of others.

The message of Huram, Hiram, Hirom and Chanukah

As requested by Brad, here is my article from this year's Chanukah To Go, published by Yeshiva University's Center for the Jewish Future. I don't know why the file on the YU website is corrupted (maybe it's because of Footnote 4), but here is the article, in full:

In presenting the seventh chapter of Melachim I as our haftorah for the second Shabbat Chanukah¹, the sages introduce us to a story of three men with near-identical names, as well as a moral lesson of broad sweep and penetrating depth.


Our story begins not in our Haftorah, but in Divrei haYamim II 2:10-13:

And Huram, King of Tyre, wrote to Solomon: “Because Gd loves His nation, He made you king upon them.”
And Huram said: “Blessed be HaShem, Gd of Israel, who created the heavens and the earth and gave King David a wise son who possessed intellect and understanding, who would build a house for Gd and a house for his reign. I have now sent you a knowledgeable, understanding man, my master craftsman² Huram. He is the son of a woman from Dan and his father is a man of Tyre; he knows how to work in gold, silver, brass, iron, stone, wood, purple wool, blue wool, linen and crimson, and to engrave any engraving and to design any design which would be given to him, along with your wise men and the wise men of David your father.”

So far, then, King Huram³ of Tyre has sent King Shlomo a brilliant craftsman who shares the name Huram. As the Malbim notes, this occurred at the start of the construction of the Beit haMikdash.

Melachim I mentions another, similarly-named craftsman (Melachim I 7:13-14):

And King Solomon sent and took Hiram from Tyre. He was the son of a widow from the tribe of Naftali, and his father was a man of Tyre, a brassworker. He was filled with knowledge and understanding and intelligence, to perform all of the tasks involving brass. He came to King Solomon and performed all of his tasks.

This Hiram is also from Tyre, but there are marked differences between this craftsman and the previous craftsman sent by King Huram:
• The former craftsman worked in a range of materials; this one works only in brass;
• The former craftsman was sent at the start of the construction, while this one arrives at the end;.
• The former craftsman is described as the son of a woman from Dan; the latter craftsman’s mother is from Naftali.

This second craftsman is also mentioned in the opening sentence of the Ashkenazi haftorah for the second Shabbat Chanukah, Melachim I 7:40, albeit with the altered name of Hirom:⁴

And Hirom formed the sinks, shovels and basins, and Hiram completed all the tasks he had performed for King Solomon in the house of Gd.

Why were two craftsmen, Huram and Hiram/Hirom, involved in building the Beit haMikdash? Malbim⁵ explains that they were actually father and son:

It appears to me that when Divrei haYamim says that King Hiram sent a written message to King Solomon, “Now I have sent you,” that referred to the father of this Hiram, and his name was also Hiram.⁶ He was sent from the King of Tyre at the start of construction… And he died after seven years, and Solomon sent for his son. Regarding this it says, “And Solomon sent and took Hiram from Tyre,” for the first came at the order of the King of Tyre and the second came because Solomon had sent for him. He was the son of a widow from the tribe of Naftali, and she was a widow because her husband, Hiram, had died.

In sum, then, King Huram/Hiram sent a craftsman named Huram, who was succeeded by his son Hiram/Hirom, to help build the Beit haMikdash.


This story is about more than an odd interplay of names, though; both Melachim and Divrei haYamim take pains to present us with the lineage of both craftsmen - the son of a woman from Dan and a father from Tyre, and the son of a woman from Naftali and a father from Tyre. Why is this information germane?

Rabbi Yochanan offered one answer: (Erchin 16b)

How do we know that one should not diverge from his craft, and from the craft of his fathers? As it is written, “And King Solomon sent and took Hiram from Tyre. He was the son of a widow from the tribe of Naftali, and his father was a man of Tyre, a brassworker.” We are taught, “His mother was from the family of Dan,” and it is written, “Ahaliav, son of Achisamach from the tribe of Dan.”

In other words: This craftsman is a matrilineal descendant of Ahaliav, who was also a craftsman. The prophet stresses this lineage in order to teach us to continue the lines of our family businesses.

Another midrashic approach, though, offers deeper moral guidance:⁷

Great and small are equal before Gd. Betzalel was from Yehudah and Ahaliav was from Dan, and he was paired with him.
R’ Chanina said: Great and small are equal… The Mishkan was created by these two tribes. So was the Beit haMikdash – Solomon from Yehudah, with Chiram, “the son of a widow from the tribe of Naftali.”

Betzalel and Ahaliav, the team responsible for construction of the original Mishkan, were the products of opposite families. Betzalel descended from the royal clan of Yehudah, who was a son of Leah. Ahaliav emerged from the tribe that travelled last, Dan, who was a son of Bilhah, Rachel’s maidservant. The two men could not have hailed from more varied backgrounds, but together they built the first building on earth where Gd would be manifest and the Jewish people could gather in worship.

Shlomo and the two Hirams, as the midrash notes, carried the same theme into the first Beit haMikdash. Shlomo, the king from Yehudah, paired first with a descendant of Bilhah’s son Naftali and then a descendant of Bilhah’s other son Dan to assemble the first permanent home of HaShem. Indeed, Hiram of Dan and Betzalel of Yehudah are both described as being Divinely invested with חכמה and תבונה, knowledge and wisdom; these traits can exist in anyone, regardless of family history.

Abarbanel (Melachim I 7:14) makes this point even stronger in his explanation of Hiram’s lineage. Regarding both Hiram the elder and Hiram the younger, the prophet notes that their fathers were “men of Tyre.” Noting that Tyre might simply refer to a geographic origin, Abarbanel then adds that Hiram might actually have been a product of an intermarriage:

It is possible to say that he was Tyrean from birth, as the text suggests, and his wife was Jewish, and she married him for some reason – because she had been taken captive, or for some other reason.

This possibility underscores the message of the midrash above, that a Jew is Jew, regardless of his background, and that any of us can grow to greatness.

It is natural for human beings to assume that spiritual character is an inherited trait and that certain lines are more gifted than others, but the description of Hiram’s lineage teaches us that our natural inclination is incorrect. No Jew should ever say, “I am predisposed to spiritual weakness,” or, “My ancestors handicapped me.” Certainly, all of us are gifted with certain basic talents – but anyone who is willing to invest the effort is given the opportunity to develop those talents to the fullest.


Rav Mordechai Elon adds that this message may have special relevance for Chanukah:⁸

Our Chanukah Torah reading recounts the gifts brought by each nasi (tribal prince) at the end of the Mishkan’s dedication. Despite the fact that each gift’s elements were identical, the Torah repeats every detail of each gift as if it were unique, emphasizing the importance of each individual. Then, at the end, the Torah sums up the gifts collectively and demonstrates that we are all as one before HaShem.

Rav Elon points out that the first nasi to bring a gift is Nachshon ben Aminadav, leader of Yehudah, and the last nasi to bring a gift is Achira ben Einan, leader of Naftali. With this we are taught, yet again, that the entire nation exists on the same plane. Each leader’s gift for the mishkan is significant, but each also functions as an equal part of the greater unity.


This message is also critical as we look toward the building of a third Beit haMikdash, for we are taught that our national unity is a prerequisite for the arrival of Mashiach.⁹ Further, this theme unites the two haftarot of Chanukah.

On the face of it, the two haftarot of Chanukah seem to be read out of order; the haftarah for the first Shabbat of Chanukah is Zecharyah’s foretelling of the second Beit haMikdash, and the haftarah for the second Shabbat of Chanukah describes Shlomo’s construction of the first Beit haMikdash. Why do we read these messages in reverse chronological order?

Tosafot Yom Tov¹⁰ cites the Ran to suggest that Zecharyah’s vision actually relates to a future time of Mashiach, and so it is more beloved to us than a description of the first Beit haMikdash.¹¹

Certainly, Zecharyah’s message is more explicitly linked to a future time of mashiach, but, as noted above, Hiram’s message is also important for our eschatological future. On the day when we will truly stand together, when we look not at tribe and lineage but at the knowledge and understanding and talent of the individual, then we will merit a final חנוכת הבית for the בנין עדי עד, the eternal Beit haMikdash.

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Notes:

1. Megilah 31a assigns the haftarot of Chanukah.

2. Rashi, among others, renders this as “my father’s craftsman.”

3. Note that the king of Tyre’s name is sometimes presented as חירם, Hiram. See, for example, Melachim I 5:15.

4. The Artscroll Stone Chumash (pg. 1212) errs in this regard, commenting on the haftarah, “Much of the Haftarah describes the Temple vessels that were made by King Hiram of Tyre, a friend and collaborator of King Solomon.”

5. Malbim to Melachim I 7:14

6. Malbim ignores the Hiram/Hirom/Huram variations throughout.

7. Sh’mot Rabbah 40:4

8. http://www.elon.org/shiur_hebrew_doc/vayigash64.doc

9. See, for example, Yechezkel 37 (the haftarah for Parshat Vayyigash)

10. Tosafot Yom Tov to Megilah 3:4

11. The Kolbo (#20) answers that precedence is determined by relevance for Chanukah; Zecharyah’s vision relates to the second Beit haMikdash, during which Chanukah took place.

Chanukah: Aristocracy and Meritocracy (Derashah: Chanukah 5770)

[Note: This is a quasi-derashah, quasi-shiur, as I am guest-speaking at a Shabbaton this Shabbos.]

It’s safe to assume that 98% of the people here have heard the old joke about Yankel, who comes to the rabbi and begs to be made a kohen. Beside himself as the rabbi refuses to make him a kohen, Yankel pledges successively larger sums of money, he offers to perform greater and greater deeds of righteousness, to come to minyan, to learn torah, to help others, until, finally, the rabbi asks, “Why do you want to be a kohen so badly?” And Yankel replies, “My father was a kohen, my grandfather was a kohen…”

We laugh at the absurdity of Yankel’s request; doesn’t everyone know that kehunah is inherited?! Is he truly unaware that membership in this oldest of Jewish aristocracies is determined not by good deeds but by accident of birth?

But we shouldn’t laugh at Yankel – because Yankel knows a great deal about Judaism’s egalitarian instincts:

• Yankel knows that all human beings are created equal – that Ben Azzai taught that the most important pasuk in the Torah is זה ספר תולדות אדם ביום ברא אלקים אדם בדמות אלקים עשה אותו, that all human beings are placed on earth with an identical claim to affinity with their Maker.

• Yankel knows the mishnah that says Gd assigned all of us the same pedigree from Adam and Chavah in order to highlight the ridiculous character of a human who would dare allege, “אבא גדול מאביך, My ancestor is greater than yours.”

• Yankel knows the lessons of Sefer Bereishit and Sefer Shmot, that Avraham and Sarah of Aram, that Rivkah and Rachel of the house of Lavan, that Yosef the imprisoned felon, that an entire generation of slaves, can lay claim to the status of בני בכרי ישראל, firstborn children of Gd, and can establish the nation that the Shechinah would recognize as her own.

So why do we laugh at Yankel? We should agree with him!

Why do we accept the aristocracy of kehunah, as well as its twin nobility of מלכות, the monarchy?

Why is our government an inherited authority?

Why do we tolerate the idea that the honor of serving in the Beit haMikdash should go to an individual of no special merit beyond a genetic helix stamped Scion-of-Aaron, or that the right to sit upon King David’s throne should go to an individual who is simply descended from Ruth?


It’s because monarchy and kehunah are not really about honoring descendants, assigning privilege to people who don’t deserve it. A Jew who is born to a king, or to a kohen might never sit on the throne or serve in the Beit haMikdash. He has potential, as a Divine favor to his forebear, a reward for that ancestor’s labor.


Ramban said as much regarding the monarchy.

Ramban discussed the way that the Chashmonaim took over the Jewish monarchy after the events of Chanukah, and he claimed that they ultimately fell in battle as punishment for usurping the throne that belonged to King David’s heirs. And Ramban argued, citing the Yerushalmi, that the monarchy was assigned to that tribe not because those heirs were wonderful, but in honor of the deeds of their patriarch, Yehudah:

• Monarchy belonged to Yehudah’s line, according to a Tosefta, because Yehudah demonstrated selfless leadership in admitting his own guilt with Tamar publicly, because he saved Yosef’s life from his murderous brothers, and because he stared down the Viceroy of Egypt to save Binyamin.

• Monarchy belonged to Yehudah’s line, because Nachshon ben Aminadav, the prince of Yehudah’s tribe, trusted Gd and marched into Yam Suf before it split.

• And Monarchy belonged to Yehudah’s line because Ruth acted to save her former mother-in-law, Naami.

In other words: Monarchy was appropriate for King David and his children not because of King David, but because of the great deeds of the founders of his line.


The same principle applies to Yankel’s coveted kehunah; the right of kehunah belongs to Yankel because of the merit of his distant ancestors:

• Yankel’s great-great-grandmother, Yocheved, heroically saved Jewish baby boys in Egypt;

• Yankel’s great-great-grandparents, after Cheit ha’Eigel, rallied to Moshe’s cry of מי לה' אלי, Whoever is for Gd, come with me!

• Yankel’s great-great-grandfather, Aharon, led the Jewish people with selfless love.

In their merit, Gd gives their heirs a shot at serving in the Beit haMikdash.


But that’s all it is – a shot at being king, a shot at being a kohen, a shot at government of the Jewish people. One who is born into those lines can lose his position.

• An ignorant kohen is forced to take a back seat to a Torah scholar, even if the Torah scholar’s lineage is illegitimate;

• Families of kohanim lost their status because of their poor conduct;

• Offspring of Yehudah lost their thrones when they sinned.

• Jewish history is littered with the stories of regal families, heirs of the royal line, who fell from their perches.


We laugh at Yankel because he failed to understand that his great-grandfather’s merit remains for him. But Yankel understood our meritocratic ideal, that the offspring must still earn their status; authority must still be earned.


And Yankel was right about one more point related to the way we govern ourselves. When Yankel pledged tzedakah and Torah and chesed, he made the point that anyone, regardless of background, can start a new line or merit, can earn positions of greatness for himself and his heirs.

This message was expressed clearly every time the Jews dedicated or re-dedicated a house to Gd:

• When the Jews wished to construct a mishkan in which to gather and commune with their Creator, Gd assigned the task to Betzalel, from the royal tribe of Yehudah, and Ahaliav, from the tribe of Dan. Dan, descendant of Rachel’s maid Bilhah, was the tribe that moved last when the Jews traveled through the wilderness. He was the מאסף, the Desert Zamboni, sweeping up anything lost by the rest of the nation. The leader and the laggard were paired to construct the mishkan – and any Jew who wished, כל נדיב לב, could contribute goods or services to that Mishkan.

• When the Jews set out to build the first Beit haMikdash, Shlomo haMelech hired a man named Hirom – not Hiram King of Tzur, but Hirom whose mother was from the tribe of Dan, and whose father was from the city of Tyre up north. According to Abarbanel, Hirom’s father may not have been a Jew at all. Shlomo, from the tribe of Yehudah, and Hirom, from the tribe of Dan, and eventually Hirom’s son, who shared his name, built the Beit haMikdash.

• We find the same message of inclusion in the second Beit haMikdash, which was erected by a ragtag group of Jews who left Bavel more for lack of Babylonian opportunity than from any special Jewish piety. Despite their lowly beginnings, their poverty and their ignorance, this generation served as leaders and built the second Beit haMikdash.

• And then we move on to Chanukah and find the Chashmonaim, family of the Kohen Gadol, joining with any Jew who will answer their call of “מי לה' אלי, Whoever is for Gd, come with me!” to rebel against the Greeks. We find a woman named Chanah, daughter of Matityahu Kohen Gadol, rallying the Jews to revolt – and then we find another woman named Yehudit, with no particular lineage, executing the general Holofernes.

• This same principle has empowered Jewish leadership through the generations, no matter what culture or continent we have inhabited. Despite the absence of a Divine decree a la לא יסור שבט מיהודה, הכרת הטוב drove us to reward our leaders with opportunities for their descendants. From Tannaim and Amoraim in Israel and Bavel, to Gaonim and Rashei Galuta in Bavel and North Africa, to Negidim and Chachamim and Parnasim and Roshei Yeshiva in Europe, to the leaders of the first Jewish communities in the Western Hemisphere, leaders of great merit have created lines, have been honored as their children were offered the opportunity to be ממלא מקום אבותיהם, to fill the seats of their parents – and when those children proved worthy, they established great dynasties, the well-known names of Jewish leadership: Klonymuses and Abarbanels, Rothschilds and Touros.

The mishkan, the first Beit haMikdash, the second Beit haMikdash, the rededication of Chanukah – all of them teach us that anyone can achieve greatness, that even as we honor descendants of great people, a non-kohen, a non-melech, any Yankel, can create a meritorious line of his own and bring honor to his own offspring.


This balance of honoring great people through their descendants, while demanding merit from those kin themselves, is of practical relevance for our theme this Shabbos. In governing our institutions, whether on the large scale of a country or the smaller scale of a community shul, we balance between those two imperatives.

The Jewish State of Israel is obligated to honor the contributions of its founders, be they the ancient, pious חלוקה communities, or the ideological BILU movement of the 1880s and 1890s, or the refugees of the Pale of Settlement at the end of the 19th century, or the kibbutznik chalutzim of the first half of the 20th century. These men and women, religious and secular, earned a place of honor for their in the new land by dint of their sweat and the lives they risked and gave for its creation. As Rav Kook recognized and actively promoted, as Rav Yissachar Techtel argued in his אם הבנים שמחה, Jewish government which seeks to honor the principles of Torah must recognize that these people are the melachim and kohanim of our time, and determine policy in a way that honors, rather than disenfranchises, their progeny.

But, simultaneously, those descendants must earn their titles. Being an Israeli by accident of birth is like being a Kohen by accident of birth; it entitles you to a seat at the table, but the future of that seat depends upon your own virtue.

And the same is true regarding our communities. A few months ago I was privileged to attend Rabbi Strauchler’s Installation here at Shaarei Shomayim, and I heard a great deal about the founders of this shul. I watched video interviews with them and their relatives, and I listened to tributes for families who have maintained this proud institution over the decades. These are the melachim and kohanim of Shaarei Shomayim, an aristocracy which earned a place of pride for its future generations. The einiklach of those heroes occupy that place of pride, but their challenge is to achieve greatness of their own, to earn their titles of today.

And the same applies regarding ourselves. I am part of a special line, descendants of Avraham and Sarah and of those who joined them over the millenia. I am part of a brit, a covenant – and I am in danger of taking it for granted. I want to be like Yankel – I want to come to Gd and say, “Gd, make me a Jew! I’ll do anything – chesed, torah, davening – just make me a Jew!” And when Gd says, “Why? Why do you want to be a Jew?” My answer will include the words, “Because my parents were Jews, and my grandparents were Jews…”


This morning’s haftarah described the role of aristocracies with the image of a Menorah whose oil is provided by two anointed sources, the monarchy and the kehunah. Next Shabbat, the second Shabbat of Chanukah, we will read about the role of Chirom, the man whose mother came from Dan and whose father may not have been Jewish.

The union of the two, the ancient aristocracy on one side and the rank-and-file creating its new aristocracy on the other, will continue the chain of the Mishkan, the first Beit haMikdash, the second Beit haMikdash and Chanukah, to construct the third Beit haMikdash, a בנין עדי עד, a construction everlasting.

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Notes:
1. Ben Azzai's quote is in Yerushalmi Nedarim 9:4, the line about Adam's pedigree is in Mishnah Sanhedrin 4:5.

2. Ramban is on Bereishis 49:10, and his source is Yerushalmi Horiyyot 3:2

3. Yehudah's monarchy is identified as his and Nachshon's honor in Tosefta Berachot 4:18; Ruth's credit appears in the midrash to Ruth.

4. See http://www.torah.org/learning/ravfrand/5762/kisisa.html for an interesting story regarding the Chafetz Chaim and the honor of being a Kohen.

5. The mishnah in Horiyyot 3:8 talks about prizing the ממזר תלמיד חכם over the כהן גדול עם הארץ.Yoma 38a and Succah 56a talk about the dishonored families of Kohanim.

6. Regarding the construction of the mishkan, the rank and file contributed so much that the נשיאים, the leaders of the tribes, were pushed to the end, to donate follow-up gifts to what we could term The Building Fund – but each leader is mentioned personally in the Torah, despite their identical gifts, in order to show that each individual was significant.

7. The midrash of Chanah is found in Otzar Midrashim of Eisenstein.

8. The historic honor for the families of leaders is enshrined in halachah; many responsa deal with the problem of passing leadership positions to unworthy descendants, and of those who tried to wrest leadership positions from worthies.